


(832):  I feel like I'm in a development meeting for a Lifetime original movie. (The (214) Remix)

by athenejen



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Animal Transformation, Boston Bruins, Dallas Stars, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Long Distance Relationship, M/M, Remix, Remix/Redux 11, Were-Creatures, Werecats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 00:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1569002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athenejen/pseuds/athenejen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"After lunch, he texts Marshy: <i>i think our baby russian is a werecat.</i>"</p><p>In which Tyler is, like, 98% certain that Val is a werecat, and misses Marshy a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(832):  I feel like I'm in a development meeting for a Lifetime original movie. (The (214) Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelsaves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsaves/gifts).
  * Inspired by [(717): he gets drunk and then tries to eat the lasers at the dance club](https://archiveofourown.org/works/233145) by [angelsaves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsaves/pseuds/angelsaves). 



> Title is from Texts From Last Night, of course. 214 is the area code for the American Airlines Center in Dallas, where the Stars play. Timelines are ever so slightly fudged. Thanks so much to fw for the speedy beta, you are the best. :)
> 
> Warning: This is completely ridiculous. But I had fun writing it! I just couldn't resist.

Tyler's standing on the ice at the Stars' practice facility during a lull between drills, distractedly watching Val rub his cheek against his glove, when it dawns on him all of a sudden that he really should've noticed Marshy's cat-bro-osity earlier than he did.

Like, the dude really likes rubbing his head against things. And he gets fixated on moving objects, sometimes. Like the puck, or the dangly air freshener Tyler attached to his rear-view mirror the week his parents came to visit. At the time, Tyler figured it was just Marshy being a dick when he wouldn't stop batting at the stupid thing even after Tyler asked him to stop 'cause it was distracting him from driving (and being distracted in Boston traffic is a surefire way to get yourself too injured to play, or at least make you waste a day figuring out how to get your car to the repair shop, not that Tyler knows this from personal experience or anything), but in retrospect, well. Marshy's a dick (in the best possible way, in Tyler's opinion, but still a dick), but he doesn't usually court death in the form of car crashes. Unless he's on the ice, and the car crashes are metaphorical. Can car crashes even be metaphorical?

Tyler shakes himself out of it, and goes back to watching Jamie try to explain to Val where they want him to go on the set faceoff play they're working on. Val's got both gloved hands resting on the butt-end of his stick, his chin propped up on them, and as Tyler watches, he does it again, that thing that made Tyler think of Marshy -- he rubs his jaw across the knuckles of his glove, absent-mindedly, like he doesn't even realize he's doing it. His eyes are darting to where Jamie points on the ice, but the whole time, his stick sways just a little as he brushes the rough fabric of the glove against his skin, back and forth, back and forth.

It's endearing as fuck and makes Tyler miss Marshy more than ever. Dallas is way more awesome than he expected, but that doesn't stop him from missing Marshy.

During post-practice lunch, Tyler jokes around with the brothers Benn while surreptitiously watching Val polish off three huge glasses of milk. That's a lot of milk.

After lunch, he texts Marshy: _i think our baby russian is a werecat_

By the time he wakes up from his nap, he's got a reply. _yeah? y?_

_i dunno. he keeps rubbing his face on his glove. & he likes milk._

_lots of people like milk, bro_. Tyler imagines Marshy rolling his eyes at him.

_yeah, but he really likes it. like a kitten!_

There's a pause, and then, _i asked Malkin but all he sent back was !!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_do exclamation pts mean the same thing in russian?_

_no idea, bro. gotta go get ready for gm, talk l8r?_

_yeah, later_. Tyler flops onto his back to stare at the ceiling. There's gotta be a way to figure this out. Tyler's gonna have to do some investigative reporting.

First he tries asking Jamie if he thinks there's anything weird about Val.

All he gets for his trouble is a dubious look and, "I mean, his clothes are a little weird, I guess. But I just figured that was him being…Russian? Or European, or whatever. And, like, he's 18. Everyone's clothes are weird when they're 18, right?"

So that's no help.

Tyler thinks about all the stuff he bought Marshy back before he'd even realized that the cat _was_ Marshy. Maybe Val has a stash of kibble in his closet or something.

The next time Val's billet family visits morning practice, Tyler makes a point of drifting over to say hi, charming the mom easily and juggling the puck for their youngest kid and then flipping it over the glass for him to catch.

He has to stop himself from fist-pumping when he gets an invite to Sunday dinner at the end of the conversation, and instead flashes them his nicest smile as he accepts.

Dinner is delicious, roast beef with carrots and potatoes, and Val seems totally comfortable, taking Tyler's presence in stride and drinking what seems like endless amounts of milk. Tyler waits until someone's in the downstairs bathroom before asking if there's another one he can use. He gets directed upstairs, and manages to figure out which room is Val's before he starts worrying about taking too long and heading back down.

He and Val and the kids play some Xbox after dinner, and during one of Val's turns, Tyler manages to sneak upstairs once more to take a look in Val's closet.

There is a disappointing lack of kibble. No litter box, either, or catnip mice. Just normal closet stuff, hanging clothes and boxes and suitcases. Damn it.

Time to bring out the big guns. In the locker room before practice a few days later, Tyler waits until he's sure Val's within earshot, then turns to Jamie and announces, "I'm thinking about getting a cat." He makes sure to say it clearly so that Val has a chance of understanding him; Val's English vocab isn't too great, still, but Tyler's pretty sure he at least knows the word "cat."

Val glances at him real quick, startled, then looks away just as suddenly. He seems to be concentrating really hard on taping his stick just right as Tyler tells Jamie about the cat he might get.

"You know, the fluffy stripey kind, black and grey, with the M on the forehead? I bet Marshall would love to have a little cat-buddy around to play with."

"Sure," Jamie replies agreeably. "Sounds nice."

Tyler doesn't think he imagines Val's grimace when Jamie goes on to admit that he's more of a dog person.

Val seems like his normal self at practice, focused on hockey and trying real hard to do what Coach Ruff wants. But Tyler's most of the way home when he realizes that he forgot his iPod in his stall, and when he bursts back into the locker room to grab it, it's to find Gonch sitting there in his street clothes, watching a small grey cat nose inquisitively at the leftover stuff in Jamie's stall.

Both Gonch and the cat freeze when they see him. Now that Tyler has a better look at the cat, he can tell that it's almost still a kitten, with huge paws that make it obvious that it still has more growing to do. It's blue-grey, with a long, silky coat and powerful haunches that it shows off by streaking across the floor and launching itself at Tyler, who instinctively catches it.

The cat tucks its face under Tyler's chin and starts purring like a rusty motor. Its fur is extremely soft, a lot like Marshy's, but its purr is different, a little louder and kind of grind-y.

Gonch clears his throat and stands up. "Uh, hi."

"Hi," Tyler replies, and holds the cat securely against him as he heads over to his stall. "I just forgot my iPod," he explains over his shoulder. "Didn't mean to interrupt. Is this your cat?"

Gonch's face does something hilarious before he says, slightly strangled, "Uh, sort of. Not really. I mean, he's not mine, I'm watching him for a friend."

Tyler shifts the cat to one arm so he can pet it with his other hand, and a few stray hairs drift down to the carpet. After he grabs his iPod and shoves it in his pocket, he heads over to Gonch's stall. Val's stall is next to Gonch's, and when Tyler looks, he can see a little pile of grey fur in there, hanging out with the stick tape and extra socks.

Tyler carefully sets the cat down on the bench in front of Val's stall -- having experienced for himself what happens when you alarm a cat while you're carrying it -- before saying to Gonch, "It's Val, isn't it?"

Gonch and the cat give him matching blank stares, and then stare at each other for a few seconds. The cat blinks, then curls up in a ball with its face tucked under its tail.

"How…" Gonch swallows. "How did you _know_?"

Tyler shrugs. "Marshy's a werecat. And Neuvy, you know, with the Caps?"

"And they _told_ you?"

Tyler shrugs again. "I figured it out." He grins. "I'm not as dumb as I look, you know."

"I'll believe that when I see it," Gonch says dryly, but he's grinning back, looking relieved.

Tyler kneels down in front of the cat and reaches out to pet it gently on the side. "Don't worry, Val. I won't tell anyone. Well, anyone but Marshy. Hey, you wanna come to dinner with us when we play the Bruins next month?"

Val perks his ears up, then raises his head to glance at Gonch, who says something in Russian, presumably translating what Tyler said.

Val meows, just once, then tucks his face back under his tail.

"I'll take that as a yes," Tyler says to Gonch. "You'll come too?"

"Sure, why not. As long as we make it an early night. He's too young to be staying out late, and I'm too old."

Tyler laughs. "Don't worry, old man. We'll all make curfew." He gives Val one last pat and stands up.

On his way out to the car, he texts Marshy. _val's a nice cat, but not as nice as you._

He gets back, _no way, you were right? thats awsome!_

And then right after, _you should bring him to dinner._

_great minds, etc. already invited him. gonch, too._

_gonchar knows 2? shoulda figured._

_yeah_ , Tyler sends back. He hesitates, then thinks, fuck it. _miss you_.

 _miss u 2_ , he gets back immediately, and if that makes Tyler's insides go all gooey, well, no one knows that but him.

The first thing Marshy says to Val when they meet up in front of the restaurant is, "Here's what you need to know: never mix Jagerbombs and catnip."

Gonch groans, but translates it for Val, who grins and says something in Russian. It has a slightly mocking inflection, and Gonch laughs.

"He says, yes, everyone knows this. Now can we go eat?"

So they do.

Dinner is a success, awkward translation pauses and all, and afterwards, Tyler goes home with Marshy. When they leave Gonch and Val in the hotel lobby, Gonch looks like he wants to remind them that there's a game tomorrow and to not stay out too late, but he doesn't. Tyler appreciates it. They're just going back to Marshy's place, anyway. 

There's nowhere else in this city he'd rather go. Okay, that, that he's definitely not gonna say out loud. Even though it's true.

They fall asleep tangled together and sticky, and wake up tangled together and even stickier, and fuck, Tyler missed this.

They're both throwing on clothes so that Marshy can drop Tyler back at the hotel in time for a quick shower before morning skate, when something occurs to Tyler.

"Hey. You know what we should try? Skype."

"Skype," Marshy says, slowly.

"Yeah. You remember the first time, right? When you, uh, watched me. And then later I watched you?"

"I remember," Marshy says, sounding fond. "So, Skype."

"Yeah." Tyler leans over to kiss him one last time before he has to go. "Skype."

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine Val to be a Nebelung, which is pretty much a long-haired Russian Blue. He looks something like [this](http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/cd/83/64/cd83647a5def60562a4b79bc04b667fe.jpg).


End file.
